For Ransom
by KJMathers
Summary: 'The Espeon turned as he spoke, eyes flashing dangerously, mouth opening wide to show shining white fangs. "You failed," he laughed, pacing in front of the Quilava. 'And you'll not see them again..."'
1. Chapter 1

A flash of brown streaked across the field, barely visible in the tall grass. It was a creature, just shy of a foot. And it was on the hunt.

Long and thin, the animal darted its way through the grass; snaked its way over logs and rocks. When finally it had enough, the creature stopped to take a breath.

Raising its head and pushing up onto its hind legs, the striped animal sniffed the air. An ear twitched, then the other, then panic.

The rodent-like animal turned to dart away, but it was too slow. A metal trap slammed down upon it. The creature fought back in fright, stopping only to cower as three shadows passed over it. One stared down, angry- a female with violet hair.

"Just another Furret," she hissed. The teal haired male next to her growled.

"Another one? Damn, this place is full of these crappy Pokemon." Next to the female stood an Espeon. He left his trainer's side as the male spoke and began to circle the cage.

"What do we do with it?" the female asked, kicking the cage. The Furret squealed and fell back, causing the Espeon to snicker aloud.

""Well, the boss told us to catch Pokemon," the male responded, earning him a demeaning look from his companion.

"The boss will not want this thing."

She watched as the Espeon stared at the cage longingly, his jowls dripping with saliva. Hunger in his eyes, he licked his lips.

"It is pathetic," the male shrugged. "Not to mention useless." There was a short pause and a sigh. "I don't want to deal with it." He looked at the Espeon, who stared back, questioning. And then he shrugged once more.

"Espeon. Do your thing."

The fox-like Pokemon sprung into action, knocking the top off the cage with a flick of his paw. The Furret yelped and turned to run, but the other was too fast. He caught the brown ferret in his paws. And, with swift movements, bit down on the rodent's neck, and jerked his head to snap the neck.

The pink Pokemon's trainer turned her head, face pale as her Pokemon began to chow down on the fresh kill, lips smacking, jaw covered in blood.

The male, however, watched as the Espeon pulled bloody strands of meat from his prey, face emotionless- the picture of indifference.


	2. Chapter 2

_Duck. Dive. Jump. Slash. _

_And then repeat. _

_The Totodile was distraught, angered by the fact his prey was outrunning him. The opponent should feel terror- fear at the thought that he, a water type was gaining on the enemy, a fire type. Totodile had an advantage. And it drove him to insanity to realize that the Cyndaquil could care less. _

_Over and over, as though it was his only option, the small, crocodilian Pokemon spewed water from his mouth, straight at his foe. Unfortunately, the fire type was faster, and merely dodged at every spray, no matter where it was aimed. _

_Duck. Dive. Jump. Slash…..and then repeat. _

_Water type versus fire type. And they were head on head. _

_Cyndaquil was too close. As his back leg had come for a kick, the water type he was facing had blocked it, arms in front of his large snout, like a barricade. Both locked gazes for a moment, suspended in animation, looking as though they were unmoving. And then the fire type pushed back on the other's arms, and so the battle began again, filled with ducks and dives, torrents of water, and blazes of fire. _

_To the side stood a Chikorita. She paced back and forth whenever the two others came near her. Eyes notched in worry, the young grass type brayed at them to stop, but there was no response from her comrades. They were too locked in their battle, minds full of their unexplainable hatred for one another. _

_As a last resort, she glanced at the Totodile's trainer. His eyes were cold, lifeless, lacking emotion. And his eyebrows were notched down, giving him the appearance of a frightening being. The Chikorita shuddered and turned her attention to the master of the Cyndaquil. She looked just as hardened, but a smile was on her face, giving the look of one who was having a good time. _

_With a sigh of dismissal, the grass type turned her gaze to her own trainer. He sat upon a log, staff in hand, eyes direct and facing forward. They were milky, glassy, and he made no notion he even saw his Pokemon. She sighed again. _

_Only ten minutes into the journey, and this was how their bonds were being solidified- by needless fights against allies. Well that was it, she was tired of it. _

_Readying herself, the little Chikorita bent down, and scraped her feet into the dirt. Eyeing her target, and flaring her nostrils, she broke into a heavy run. Before making contact, she turned her head and closed her eyes, as though rethinking her decision. But it was too late for second thoughts. Without warning, she rammed into the Totodile, who flew to the side with a growl. _

_The water Pokemon hit the ground once, and bounced back up. Upon second touch down, he rolled harshly to the side, and landed, in a daze, at his master's feet. The young man prodded his Pokemon with the toe of his boot before turning those cold eyes upon the Chikorita. _

_Instantly, the chill ran up her back, and she turned, crying aloud as she ran to her trainer, and rubbed against his legs for comfort. The Totodile's trainer scoffed as he recalled his Pokemon back into a nicely polished Pokeball. _

"_Well it's clear who got the most cowardly Pokemon of the bunch," he hissed, regarding his comrade's grass type with a glower. Sensing his gaze, she shivered again. _

"_Oh, come on," the female trainer spoke, picking her Cyndaquil from the floor, and patting him on the head as she did so. He mewled gratefully in response. "She just wanted to stop the fight, I'm sure." Her optimism was disgusting, at least to the Totodile's trainer, who he rolled his eyes. _

"_And that's cowardice, Reyann. Didn't want to get involved with the big dogs." There was a snort from the side, and all turned their attention to the young man sitting upon the log. He stood up slowly, digging the edge of his cane into the ground for balance. Chikorita instantly came to, and extended a vine from her neck, wrapping it around her master's wrist to aide him. _

"_I realize you are big headed, Jean, but I would appreciate you not talking down to my partner in my presence." The Chikorita's eyes beamed with happiness, and she began to rub against his leg again. _

"_Pah," the one called Jean scowled, rubbing a hand through scraggly, silver locks of hair. "You're too nice for your own good, Lucis. Gotta toughen them up, or they'll never listen, much less fight." He sent a glare down at the grass Pokemon, but she ignored, being too busy rubbing against her trainer's leg, the leaf on her head twirling in happiness. Jean scowled. _

"_You losers have fun with your stupidity. I'm gone." And without a second word, he steadied the bag on his shoulder and headed off into the tall grass. Reyann watched until he was little more than a speck before turning her attention back to the older teen before her. _

"_Looks like he's ready to go. But what course do you plan to take, Lucis? Are you going to challenge any gyms?"_

_The Chikorita stopped to stare up at the male, curious about his response. The tanned male didn't miss a beat. _

"_I'll go where I feel led." And he nodded, satisfied with that answer. Reyann smiled. _

"_I think we'll do that too! But, we do hope to get some gym battles in, maybe. We'll be better than the best." The Cyndaquil in hand made a slight squeak of a noise, a full agreement with her statement. And the girl laughed. _

"_And it seems like we're ready to go. Best of luck to you, Lucis." _

"_And to you as well, my friend." Reyann waved as Cyndaquil climbed up her other arm and onto her head. He as well lifted a leg in salute, whispering incoherent words of farewell to the grass type Pokemon. _

_Chikorita's eyes fell and filled with tears. A journey just begun, and already so many friends had been lost._

The Quilava woke with a start, ears pricked, eyes notched. He gazed around the room, wary of anything and everything, dust in the wind, a slight breeze, the shadows on the wall. Everything was the enemy. Everything, that is, except what should have been.

There was a moment of confusion, where the Pokemon forgot what it was he was supposed to have been doing, though he was sure there was something. He realized, with a loathsome feeling, that his head ached something awful. Unnerved, he reached up to swipe at his itching ear, retracting his paw when he felt something sticky. The appendage came back red, and panic flashed through the fire Pokemon's eyes as he remembered what it was that had happened.

They had come. The ones with the black shirts, and the red letters. What else had happened? There had been a fight, some screaming, shouting, breaking….he could've sword a Houndour had bit his ear.

But…but….

The Quilava jumped up, only to spin around, dizzy, and collapse back onto the floor. But there was no time for his pain, there were more pressing matters.

Forcing himself up, the Quilava bolted from the room, sloppily running down the concrete, heading for the first beam of light. Ducking his head, and closing his eyes, the Pokemon sped towards the large, foreboding wooden doors of the room, and slammed into them.

They opened from the force of his headbutt, and he jumped into the crisp morning, breaking into a hackneyed stance as he snorted, and surveyed the territory. The town was almost a graveyard. Shops had been ransacked. Children were crying. People worked to pick up their treasured items. But she was nowhere to be found.

Forlorn, he fell back on his backside and let out a mournful howl. His beloved trainer and friend. He had been to weak to stop them. Defenseless. They were the ones who had come for no reason, silent, deadly. And, in the daylight, too. The Quilava let out a sob.

"Reyann," he sighed, and then glared at the ground as though it were his mortal enemy. "Rocket!" he hissed, then began to dig into the ground to quell his frustration. But it did nothing to help.

Standing up, the Pokemon proceeded to pace back and forth, in thought. But there was nothing that could come to mind and, with a growl, he began to rub his head in the dirt.

An odd life, something of a mix between a mewl and a chortle, broke him from his agony, and so the Quilava turned on heel, ready to take on an attacker. But he fell at ease when he saw, not an enemy, but a friend.

"Breslow, thank Arceus," he sighed in relief. "I was afraid they came back." It was with a bashful frown he admitted fear.

The Persian sat down gracefully, pausing to lick a paw before he set it back down gently on the ground and spoke in a regal purr. "Who's come back, Ransom? Someone for your PokeChow?" And he raised his other paw and licked it.

"No, no, nothing dumb like that!" the fire type stamped his front feet. "The bad guys came and took Reyann!"

"Bad guys?" Breslow questioned, a bemused smile on his face as he began to rub the back of his paw across an ear. "These dreams of yours get more odd each time you tell them." The paw was placed back on the ground.

"_Not _a story," Ransom assured through clenched teeth as he continued to stamp on the ground. "Just look at what they did to the town."

"It has been rather blustery today," the feline dismissed, gaining a growl from the Quilava.

"No!" he shouted. "No, no, no, no, no!" They came, ransacked the place, sicked their dogs on me, and kidnapped Reyann. I saw, I saw." And he nodded.

"Stranger and stranger." The Persion went to work grooming his flank.

"Would I have this notch in my ear if something didn't happen?" He indicated the wound with a thrust of his paw. But he was disregarded.

"Happens all the time to you, doesn't it. Scrapes and bruises…"

The Quilava snarled. "You never listen to me!" he hissed, turning on heel. Breslow looked up, mildly surprised.

"And where are you going?" asked the cat, an indifferent expression crossing his face as he ceased licking his side for a moment.

"I'm going to find them!" he said, turning his neck to Breslow for a second, then looking back to the path ahead. "They took Reyann," he flexed his claws in the dirt. "And I'm gonna get her back." Immediately, he broke into a run, leaving Breslow to take kicked up dust to the face.

The Persian spluttered at the dirt, spitting sandy chunks from his mouth, before looking in horror at his now dusty coat.

"How uncouth." He hissed as he stood and walked off to find a shady place in which to clean his fur.

* * *

><p>An explanation of what happened in Ransom's fight with Rocket, and more interesting stuff to come in the next chapter. Stay tuned.<p> 


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